It's getting to me how I'm much closer to strangers than my mama  How if my eyes are unfocused in the morning,  I could easily grab one of my three roommates toothbrushes  How I can't hear my sister's snores from the bedroom next door But the girl's that bunks below me  I thrive in the 30 minutes I get to myself  Listening to my music aloud  Pulling out wedgies  Taking deep breaths  It's getting to me how I have to talk to my best friends in hushed voices in the hallway at midnight  Because everyone's either asleep or doing homework  Because if they heard our inside jokes they'll think I'm crazy  It's getting to me that I have to call to say good morning to my grandma  How she's not in the kitchen  Sipping on coffee with too much cream  How she's not getting on my case, because I forgot to give thanks before dinner  How she isn't close enough for me to smell her perfume, or feel the wrinkles of her deep dark skin  Its getting to me how close everyone is at parties  Dancing  Hip to hip  Mouth to mouth  Sharing the same drink  But I can't hear my nieces laugh   Or see them off to school  Can't have family game night  Move night  Sunday dinner  Family photos I don't man,  But this distance thing is getting to me       

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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